


Don't Go There

by ausmac



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 07:09:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7674961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausmac/pseuds/ausmac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a little sequel to "Don't Touch the Hair"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Go There

Garrosh dragged the Regent Lord through into his quarters and tossed him onto the bed.

The elf rolled across the bed and onto the floor.  He surfaced a moment latter.  “This isn’t going to work.”

Garrosh began undoing his belt.  “No, it is going to work very well.  I plan to put this,” he said, drawing out his substantial cock, “into you, and I’m going to enjoy every inch of it.”

Lor’themar moved around to sit on the edge of the bed.  “No you can’t.”

“I can!”

“You cannot.”

Garrosh snarled.  “I CAN!”

The elf lord sucked in a deep breath.  “The Sunwell save me.  I do not mean you may not, I mean you **cannot**.  As in, it – won’t – fit!”

The Warchief gave a twisted, feral grin.  “I will make it fit.”

“Let me try and explain in simple terms.  This,” he said, making a circle of thumb and finger with one hand, the size of Garrosh’ penis, “will not fit into this,” circling his other finger into a much small circle.  “Do you get my point?”

“No, but you will get my point in a moment.”  He reached out, pushed Lor’themar face first onto the bed and reefed his trousers down to his knees.  “If you think you can fool me with this stupid…”  He pried the Regent Lord’s buttocks apart and peered in.  “Where is it?”

“Where it always is,” came the muffled reply.

Garrosh ran his finger along the groove and finally found the sphincter ring.  “This is..tiny!  No wonder you people always look constipated!  How do you even shit?”

“We function perfectly adequately. I have no….nung!” the last word was grunted out as a large Orcish finger was shoved through into his anus.

Garrosh smiled.  “Ah, there it is.  Now if I just…stretch…”  He tried inserting two fingers, but the muscle was too tight.  He slapped Lor’themar’s arse.  “Relax.”

Lor’themar eased his lower muscles and the anal muscle opened a little further.  Garrosh pushed in two fingers and twirled them.  Despite doing so for a minute or so, the anal opening refused to enlarge any further.  Even at two fingers, it was obvious he would have fitted no more than the head of his cock into the elf's arse.  He removed his fingers with a grunt of annoyance, glanced down at them and hissed.

“That’s…disgusting!  He shook them, and then wiped them on the hem of Lor’themar’s shirt.  The Regent Lord sighed. 

“A side effect of unplanned sodomy.  Perhaps you will believe me now when I tell you that you cannot rape me.”

Garrosh pulled Lor’themar up and around.  “I don’t understand.  I have heard so many stories from Orc warriors telling of how they rutted in male Blood Elf arses!”

“And that’s exactly what they were, stories.”  Lor’themar straightened his shirt and pulled his pants up.  “It’s physically impossible.”

Garrosh stood and began pacing.  “I will be shamed.  It will be told how I couldn’t even get it into a prissy little Elf Lord.  My honour will be destroyed!”

Lor’themar looked thoughtful.  “Well, perhaps we can come to an…arrangement.”

Garrosh eyed him suspiciously.  “What sort of arrangement”

“You will announce that I have given you my word of honour never to consider joining the Alliance again.”  His mouth twisted into a look of distaste. “Which I will happily do in any case.  If I have to listen one more minute of Tyrande Whisperwind telling me how I and the other Sin’dorei have shamed our High Elf heritage, I’ll sick up in my mouth.”  He continued:  “You will exhibit me to those outside as a totally humiliated and broken creature who submitted to your mighty self after the usual rutting and degrading.”  He shrugged, smiling languidly.  “That’s a win-win situation.  I survive, my Sin’dorei remain in the Horde to do you bidding, and you have the honour of telling everyone how I was totally subjugated.”

Garrosh looked at him, puzzled.  “You would suffer that humiliation?  Have you no honour?”

“Oh, yes, quite a bit.  But I know it isn’t true, you know it isn’t true, and it’s the kind of thing I can use to my own advantage.  To come through such an ordeal and survive it?  My reputation can only be enhanced.”

Garrosh shook his head in grudging respect.  “I never knew you Blood Elves were so devious.  Very well, but you will have to look the part.”

Lor’themar nodded, thoughtful.  He reached behind his head, pulled out the tie holding back his ponytail, and ruffled his hair until it was a knotted mass around his head and shoulders.    He pointed to his chin at the side of his mouth.  “If you could hit me there but g…”  Garrosh punched him hard, rocking him backwards.  “..ently.”  Lor’themar scowled, shook his head and moved his sore jaw around.  “Not the best idea, I concede. “  He opened the top buttons of his shirt.  “Gently this time, bite me on the side the neck.  I’ve heard Orcs do that in mating.  But please remember I’m not an Orc.”

“No chance of me forgetting that.”  Garrosh bent and scooped Lor’themar into his arms and lifted him against his chest.  His eyes were hooded and very close to Lor’themar.  “You know, if it had been possible, you might well have ended up enjoying it.”  And before Lor’themar could respond to that, Garrosh bent and gently bit his throat.  He licked the bite, running his rough tongue over the wound, leaving a trail of pink blood across Lor’themar’s throat.  He moved to the other side of the Blood Elf’s throat and repeated the bite, then looked up into the single eye that was watching him with a fixed, bright intensity.  He licked his lips and his smile was wide and pleased.  “There, I’ve marked you.  Remember it when you think of me tasting your blood.”  He let Lor’themar slide to the floor and sank down onto fur-covered chair.  “ Now we will wait. “

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know how elves work, but we Orcs take our time.  And I, after all, am famed for my sexual energy.”

“Well, fine, we wait.”  Lor’themar  stretched his legs out on the bed and rested back against the headboard.  “So how are things with Vol’jin?”  It was a topic guaranteed to make the Warchief steam, which he did.

“Wretched green flybait.  Now he’s one who needs a good reaming.  Not by me though.  I have my limits.”

“I find that hard to believe.”  He saw the big Orc’s eyes narrow.  “No insult intended, I’m sure.  So did you hear the latest news about Prince Anduin?”  He watched the Warchief out of the corner of his eye, holding certain opinions about Garrosh in that direction.  Garrosh froze, and then assumed a totally artificial air of indifference.

“Who cares what that little weakling is up to.”

“He is a nice lad, for a human. …”

They talked for a half hour or so, at which time Garrosh decided he would have satisfied his lustful urges on Lor’themar by then.  He stood and studied the Regent Lord’s face.  “You could probably do with a  bit more bruising,” and he slapped Lor’themar across the face,  hard, leaving red patches on his pale skin.  Lor’themar hissed and stood, but restrained himself in the face of Garrosh’s glare.  “Now play your part, Elf.  And don’t shame me, because I’ll kill you if you do.  After all, I’m known for my killing rages.”

Lor’themar tore open his shirt and trousers, ripping seams that suggested violent undressing.  He waited while Garrosh put a large hand around his throat and was dragged out of the room to be flung onto his knees in front of the waiting audience.

He kept his head and back bent as Garrosh spoke above him.  “I’ve punished this elf for his insolence.  He has been shown what happens to those who try and betray the Horde.”  A hand stroked through his untidy hair.  “I doubt he will forget having my cock in his arse, of being ridden like a wolf mounts its bitch.”  The Orcs roared their approval.  Garrosh’s hands moved under his chin and lifted his face.  Lor’themar had worked some tears into his eye and one spilled decorously down his cheeks.  He though he looked suitable miserable and degraded, and from the brief glance at Rommath, it appeared he’d succeeded.

To others, Rommath would appear unmoved.  But years of experience of dealing with the taciturn mage gave Lor’themar some insight.  Rommath was tense, shocked and…something else.  He couldn’t put his finger on it and didn’t have the time to study it.  Garrosh had one last move to make.  He grabbed a handful of long tangled hair, twisted his head around and pushed Lor’themar’s face into his groin. 

“This is the best use your mouth has been put to in some time, Elf.”  The tip of Garrosh’s cock nudged against his lips.  “Show these peons how you served me, and will again if I need it.”

 _You absolute bastard!_ But he could only think it, because there was no way out of this except to follow Garrosh’s lead, because the broken Sin’dorei he was playing wouldn’t refuse.  He opened his lips and nearly gagged as the big organ was pushed through into his mouth.  It plunged back and down into his throat and it took every ounce of his powerful will not to gag or throw up.  He controlled his throat muscles, angled his neck to stop the thing from battering his throat, and began to suck.  He balanced himself by holding his hands against Garrosh’s thighs, and resisted the temptation to bite down.  As much as he wanted to, that would have pushed their unwilling cooperation too far.  But he did use them a little, running them along the top and bottom of the cock, and he had the satisfaction of hearing the Warchief gasp.

He had very little experience of fellatio but the years had not left him totally innocent.  If he wanted it to end faster, he had to stimulate the Orc to a finish.  So he moved one hand around and underneath to wear the big ballsack hung, and he began to stroke and squeeze them.  He latched on to the base of Garrosh’s cock with the other and pumped it, as hard as he could.

Garrosh twitched and grunted and swivelled his hips, seeking out the depths of Lor’themar’s mouth.  Lor’themar took it all and after some moments of dual stimulation Garrosh shouted and pulled backwards.  His wet cock slipped from Lor’themar’s mouth and pumped semen all over the Regent Lord’s hair.

As a deliberate payback for the hairless comment, Lor'themar assumed sourly.

He sagged, actually weary for timing his breathing had been difficult and he felt faint and sore.  Hands lifted him and a hoarse voice whispered in his ear.  “See, Regent Lord, not every one of your holes is too small.”  And then he was dropped and kicked down the steps, to roll across and land at Rommath’s feet.

He heard Garrosh shouting something about him being taken out of his sight, while his Orcs thumped his back and congratulated him for his prowess.  Familiar hands helped him up and he sagged against Rommath.

“Come, Regent Lord.  Time to go home.”

The voice wasn’t quite its normal cool self and he looked across blearily into that watchful green gaze.  “Thank you Rommath.”

Rommath helped him up onto the back of the Grand Magister’s  Dragonhawk, and then climbed up behind him.  “Are you hurt?”  he finally asked, as they swept up and away from Orgrimmar.

“Not seriously.  Other than shamed.”

Rommath’s breath brushed against the back of his neck.  “I saw these marks on your throat.  I wondered how he could…that is, how he…..” 

“Fucked me?  Let us just say, a large Orc may not necessarily possess an equally large organ.”

He could almost hear the wheels turning in his Grand Magister’s brain.  “I see.”  A cool hand touched one of the bite marks.  The fingers were surprisingly gentle.  “You have no need to feel shamed.  He is a beast and you did what you did for your people.  They will understand.  And I will be there to assist you in any way that I am able to.”

And he slowly moved one arm around Lor’themar to hold him in place in a way that wasn’t at all intimate, and still managed to be out-of-character comforting.

Over the course of a brief conversation, the High Magister had spoken a dozen words and at shown least a couple of emotions more that he normally used.  It seemed that seeing his Regent Lord being shamefully abused had a profound effect on his most controlled adviser.   Perhaps that was the only real positive personal result of the fiasco.

And if a tiny, obviously deviant part of his brain had found Garrosh Hellscream biting and licking his neck to be arousing (just a _little_ ) well, it wasn’t likely to ever happen again, so he just filed it away in Odd Things Learned About Myself….

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to take a look at my Live Journal WoW story and fic recommendation community at http://wowwords.livejournal.com/


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